


Weakness Leaving

by p1013



Series: Kinkuary 2021 [24]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bondage, Breathplay, Canon-Typical Violence, Dom Draco Malfoy, Dom/sub, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, POV Harry Potter, Painplay, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Rope Bondage, Sub Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29726340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p1013/pseuds/p1013
Summary: He's nineteen the first time he asks Ginny to hurt him during sex, and he's a day older than that when she tells him this isn't working.He's twenty when he goes to his first kink club and finally gets what he needs.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Kinkuary 2021 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140512
Comments: 43
Kudos: 195
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021





	Weakness Leaving

**Author's Note:**

> Day 26 - Shibari/Bondage

As Malfoy's boot slams into Harry's nose and his body is flooded with pain and his mouth with blood, Harry realizes with a stricken panic that on the tail-end of the searing agony of bones snapping is the liquid curl of desire.

If it weren't for the _Petrificus Totalus_ , he'd be hard.

He'd be hard and bleeding beneath Malfoy's feet, and Harry wants to believe he wouldn't be begging for more, but in the solitude of his own mind and his frozen body, he knows he would. He'd be gagging for it, the same way he's gagging on his own blood now.

"I don't reckon they'll find you till the train's back in London." Harry's cloak settles softly over his aching face. "See you around, Potter… or not."

As Malfoy leaves Harry helpless on the floor, he thinks it shouldn't make his blood burn.

It does anyway.

* * *

He starts experimenting after that. Nothing serious, nothing as brutal and devastatingly good as the sharp crack in his skull when Malfoy's heel met bone. But he'll dig his fingers into his thigh as he wanks, hard enough to leave bruises. He squeezes his bollocks in his fist until just that is enough to make him come. One late night in the library, he finds a book on knot tying, and he takes it back to his bed and pants his way through the first three chapters.

There's something about the piercing purity of agony that makes his pleasure that much sweeter, but even as he learns his body and this side of himself, there's something missing.

Some _one_.

He forgets about it all in the sickening aftermath of Dumbledore's death, in the rush down the Astronomy Tower stairs, in the boiling anger at Snape and his betrayal.

Eventually, he remembers it with the lowering of a wand and the clasp of sweat-dampened fingers, hard and bruising around his wrist.

* * *

He's nineteen the first time he asks Ginny to hurt him during sex, and he's a day older than that when she tells him this isn't working.

He's twenty when he goes to his first kink club and finally gets what he needs.

* * *

His shoulders ache. The ropes carefully looped around his wrists and forearms tightens every time he shifts his weight, and it's putting a strain on his joints. His rigger knows what she's doing, though, and he trusts her to keep him from injury.

He's on display tonight, though he can't see how big of a crowd he's drawn. The blindfold over his eyes is charmed to remove his ability to see, but Harry has his eyes closed anyway. It eases something in him when he submits. He doesn't have to worry about what's coming next. 

All he has to do is wait for it.

He can feel the body heat of passersby, can smell their perfume and their sweat. No one touches him. They're not allowed to. This is about making Harry wait. 

Whether that's for pain or for pleasure is entirely up to him.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

The voice is husky and low. Harry doesn't think he's heard it before, but something about it is compelling. He keeps his head bowed because he's been told to, but the desire to raise his chin, to open his eyes, to find out who's speaking to him is nearly overwhelming.

"They did a poor job glamouring you," the man continues. "They covered the obvious scars, but not the important ones." His breath coasts across Harry's ear. "You mustn't tell lies."

Harry's body stiffens.

"Do you know who I am?" the man asks. "You may respond."

"No, sir."

He chuckles lowly. "Oh, I do like that. What would you give me to know who I am?"

"I don't… Whatever you want, sir."

"Whatever I want." There's a pressure on his ropes, and Harry's shoulders scream. "I want a lot of things."

When the man pulls away, the knots stay tight. Harry's back is bent at an awkward angle, and his muscles are wrenched almost to the breaking point. Sweat covers his skin, and though he could have the bonds loosened with a word, he keeps his mouth shut.

"A private room, then. Your rigger will bring you to me."

"Yes, sir."

Harry barely hears the man's receding footsteps over the blood pounding in his ears. His rigger loosens the knots around Harry's wrists enough that the painful arch of his back is eased and he can get to his feet without falling. Her hand is gentle on his bonds as she leads him, still blindfolded, through the club and into a private room.

"Be careful with him," she says, and Harry can't tell if she's talking to him or to the man in the room. She doesn't clarify before she leaves.

With the door to the room shut, the noise from the club is muffled. Harry can hear the man's clothes rustling as he moves about. He doesn't speak, though, and Harry does his best to not let the unease tighten his body.

"I'd wondered," the man says, "if this was something you and I had in common. I had my theories, back when we were younger. I watched you, you know."

His voice is soft, but his fist is tight as it wraps in Harry's tresses, pulling his head back. The man's other hand traces up the line of Harry's neck, his nails scratching at Harry's pulse.

"I watched you all of the time. And I thought…" His grip on Harry's throat is tight. It cuts off oxygen, and as his brain starves, his ears ring.

His cock thickens.

"What a lovely thing you are." Harry gasps as the man releases his grip. "Breathe. That's good."

He doesn't mean to speak, but his blood is burning through him like poison, and his need is growing with every painful twist of the man's hand in his hair. 

"Why?"

The touch on his mouth is gentle. "You have something I want. Something I'm coming to realize I desperately need. But you can't give it to me like this." Those fingers trail up Harry's face and rest on the thick fabric of the blindfold. "You need to see me, to _truly_ see me. After that, we'll see if you have what I need."

Slowly, he undoes the knot. Harry's head is still tilted back, so when the blindfold falls free, it doesn't fall from his face. Resting against his closed eyes, it reminds him of the weight of the Invisibility Cloak, thrown over him carelessly as he bled in the Hogwarts Express.

The hand in his hair gentles then releases its grip. Harry's head drops forward, and the blindfold drops to the floor.

Blinking against the light, Harry takes in the man's shoes. Black leather and well-made, but lacking in ornamentation. He trails his gaze up, following the well-tailored trousers that encase long, lean legs. His white shirt is tucked into his waistband, though a bit of it has come undone. His hands rest by his sides, well-formed and loose. Harry wonders how they'll feel when wielded against him when they beat pleasure from his body.

By the time Harry reaches the man's face, he already knows who it is. He remembers this body, remembers the shape and form of it, the weight of it against his back, against his face.

"Malfoy."

Mouth quirked into a smile, he looks down at Harry without any judgement in his eyes. Just patience. "Potter."

Harry swallows, stares, and then drops his eyes to the floor. "How may I serve you, sir?"

Malfoy laughs, low and easy, and Harry shivers.

"Oh, Potter," he says as he puts his foot between Harry's thighs and kicks them apart uncomfortably wide. "I believe we'll find that out together."


End file.
